


No post code envy

by tisktisk (PornyZiallFeels)



Series: Loving You Is Easy [5]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Artist Zayn, M/M, rich boy harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 12:16:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1648316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PornyZiallFeels/pseuds/tisktisk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn is a talented artist his mother thinks he's the next Van Gogh but instead he's drawing caricatures at some rich kids birthday party</p>
            </blockquote>





	No post code envy

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this at the dog park where there was a kids party going on near by...there was a face painter...close enough.

Zayn covers a yawn with the back of his hand, the one with the dove tattoo that he got with his mate Lou who’d also gotten ink, got this giant ass Sparrow on his outer forearm, it looks sick but it hurt like a bitch and Louis vowed never to get anything that big again, he of course went back and got a buck on his bicep the next week without telling Zayn but it’s whatever.

He’s just contemplating where he went so terribly wrong in life to end up here, a nineteen year old high school dropout who only ever feels alive when he’s drawing. His mother claims he has an old artist soul like Picasso, Van Gogh or one of them Italian blokes who liked to drawn men with their willy’s out on church ceilings. But really he’s not like any of those men; he’s just a nobody with no future ahead of him.

Ah yes, now he remembers how he got here, here being perched on a stool in the backyard of some rich bloke’s mansion who was throwing his step son a party for his seventeenth, Zayn was hired to draw caricatures of the guests for an hour and a half. He’s already been here for twenty or so minutes and has yet to see the birthday boy, but he did see the sick brand new BMW parked out front when he arrived, a big red bow still tied to the roof.

Now half an hour in and not one person has approached him which doesn’t really surprise him seeing as everyone here is seventeen and over for god sakes what the fuck were they thinking hiring a caricature artist, who thought this was a good idea he wonders but whatever he got paid regardless if he drew a single figure or not.

He’s itching for a smoke is the thing, and he’s tempted to sneak off to have one behind the pool house despite the fact that Mr. Twist had been more than firm when he told Zayn there was no smoking allowed on his property. He thinks he’d’ be more than willing to take the risk. Only just as he makes to stand a fit lad with a head full of bouncy curls and sparkling green eyes climbs up onto the stool across from him and throws his head back, dramatically batting his eyelashes at Zayn.

“Go on then, draw me like one of your French girls.” He manages to say with a straight face, but ruins it by giggling almost immediately after. Zayn just stares at him, both in amusement and annoyance because he could really go for that smoke damnit. The boy finally relents, dropping the act.

“So how does this work exactly? I strike a silly pose and hold it or..?” Zayn smirks.

“Naw just smile, let me worry about making you look silly yeah?” The boy shrugs and does just that, Zayn lets out a groan when he sees that the boy’s got two perfect dimples in either cheek. Not to say that he couldn’t draw dimples; he can draw just about anything if he wants to.

It’s just dimples are sort of a weakness for him from a dating stand point and with this bloke already being fit as fuck the fact that he has dimples just drives home how utterly screwed he’s become in a matter of seconds when he finds it becoming exceedingly difficult not to reach out and poke one of them.

_Time for a distraction_ he thinks to himself and takes a deep breath, trying to remember what it’s like to socialize with someone he hasn’t known all his life like he has Louis.

“So uh, you school mates with this Styles twat or summat?” Curly stiffens, sending Zayn an odd look.

“Twat? You know him or something?” Zayn sat up straighter himself, thinking he should’ve known better than to stick his foot in it, why would he bad mouth the stepson of his employer to a guest? Of course he’d be close to the kid and take offense on his behalf, as was Zayn’s luck. Figuring the damage was already done Zayn shrugged.

“No, but I know his _type._ Spoiled little rich prat…guess you’re just like him though, come from money don’t ya, bet you live in a house as big as this, the type to have more rooms then family members…I don’t even know why I’m bothering to talk to you about this.” Curly sniffed haughtily, raising his chin to Zayn.

“I wonder what is worse, to be a spoiled rich prat or a judgmental knob who criticizes people based off what they _think_ they know instead of actually getting to know the person they’re bad mouthing.” Zayn looked away from his drawing once more to meet fiery green eyes and a set mouth both of which looked ridiculously out of place on the younger lad, Zayn longed for nothing more than the return of those godforsaken dimples.

“Look I shouldn’t have even said anything about your mate, you’re right I don’t know him so maybe let’s forget I even said anything yeah? I’ll just finish up your picture and we can part ways here.” But apparently Curly had other plans as he started in on Zayn, working himself up until his arms were flailing around as he spoke.

“Seriously you can’t just judge him off of the money he’s got, I’m pretty sure he hasn’t _always_ had money like the rest of the snobs here. It used to be just him, his mum and sister and they struggled for a very long time after his real dad fucked off early on. His mum’s only just met Robin about three years ago and he’s the one with all the money—not Styles, he just feels bad about Harry not really having much of a childhood growing up and is trying to make up for it with big spectacles like this. Truthfully Styles still doesn’t feel any more comfortable than I imagine you do at these things…actually I don’t even think I know half the people here.”  He finished looking around at the various guests milling about around them.

Zayn’s head shot up at that, nearly dropping the pencil he held.

“Wait you…” Curly had the nerve to thrust a hand out to him, dimpling brightly at him.

“Harry Styles birthday boy and apparent spoiled rich prat and you are?” Zayn gulped and reluctantly took Harry’s hand, giving it a weak shake before dropping it.

“Fired most like and a massive git, a broke one at that I suppose since your Da probably won’t be paying me once you tell him…”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“I’m not going to tell him anything.”

“You’re not?” The dimpled lad shrugged taking in Zayn’s panicked look.

“Naw, to tell the truth it’s nice not to have someone kissing my arse in hopes of getting a ride in my BMW.” He joked and surprisingly Zayn chuckled back nodding in understanding.

“Yeah saw that, she’s a real beaut.” Harry shrugged again, unimpressed.

“Eh, she’s alright nothing wrong with my old bug Luna though…think I’ll keep her still.” Zayn remembered seeing an old rusted VW Bug beside the BMW though he obviously hadn’t given it much thought aside from wondering how the thing was still even running and snorted.

“Yeah alright, well if you need someone to take the beamer off your hands, I think I’m in a right charitable mood.” Harry giggled, honest to god giggled and Zayn felt something flip inside him at the sight. Then the younger lad wasn’t laughing anymore as his eyes raked unabashedly over Zayn’s body, making the darker boy squirm a bit on his stool.

“Hmm you _would_ look really good behind the wheel now that you mention it…or bent over the hood whichever you fancy first.”

Zayn made a choked noise and it was a good thing he didn’t actually have anything in his mouth to choke on other than air. Clearing his throat to cover the previous noise he blinked wide eyes at the birthday boy, his eyebrows raised to his hairline.

“Did you just?” He started to ask, but not really sure how to go about it. Harry’s eyes mirrored his own and for the first time Zayn saw a trace of uncertainty etch its way onto his face.

“Oh fuck, is my gay-dar on the fritz again, because I totally thought you were giving off certain vibes but…” Zayn couldn’t take it, he had to put the poor boy out of his misery as he sat there stammering and simply held up a hand to cut him off.

“No, no I am really _really_ gay it’s just...”

“It’s me then? Turned off by rich prats?” He tried to joke, though the humor never really reached his eyes as he said it so Zayn quickly shook his head, tossing the curly boy a dubious look.

“Christ wouldja come off it mate you know you’re bloody fit, that is definitely _not_ the issue.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Zayn shrugged, kicking up a bit of dirt from the yard as he picked his next words carefully.

“It’s just I’m 19 and going nowhere, not off to uni, don’t have a real job to speak of and I have no clue what I mean to do with the rest of my life…you don’t want to get caught up in my mess Styles trust me.” Harry let out a breath of relief and brightened once more, speaking now with renewed confidence.

“Look it’s not like I’m proposing to ya, just wanted to get laid…and maybe make you pancakes in the morning.” He finished with a wink. Zayn snorted incredulously.

“Don’t you have someone to do that _for_ you?” Harry looked confused for a beat before nodding slowly.

“Well yeah my mum, but I happen to be an amazing cook and enjoy doing it to.” Zayn still didn’t look convinced as he worked on getting the eyes of his drawing to twinkle like the real thing.

Harry sighed, running a hand through his curls. “For what it’s worth if you pulled together a portfolio of your work I could probably slip it under the door of Robin’s office he loves discovering up and coming artists for his gallery.” Zayn frowned.

“I don’t take charity.” He grunted, really concentrating now, but Harry wouldn’t be swayed so easily.

“It’s _not_ charity! If anything you’d be doing me a _favor_ getting Robin off my back about applying to universities and whatnot by being his new “project” and that’s only if your stuff is even any good, for all I know your work could look like a three year old did it using their toes or summat.”

At that Zayn managed to drag his eyes away from his sketchpad to glare at him.

“Oi, fuck off I’m good, at least that’s what they tell me.”

“Well then prove it, let Robin take a look he’s kind of made thousands on his eye for good art, if he doesn’t like it I’m sorry but no one will. What have you even got to lose really, you said it yourself you’re pretty much headed up shit creak without a paddle.”

Zayn stayed silent as he mulled over Harry’s offer, he had a point Zayn didn’t have much to lose in seeing what Mr. Twist thought of his work. After all he was one of the most successful art consultants and curators in all of Northern England; he knew his art and maybe having his opinion would be just what Zayn needs to decide what to do with his life. If Robin told him he was good enough to make a career of his talents then he’d try and go about doing that, but if he told him he just didn’t have it at least he would know once and for all and he could move on, try to find some other way to make a living.

“I take back what I said about not making a funny face; I’m going to need you to stick your tongue out so that I can get yer dimples just right.”

“Oh I get it; it’s the dimples that do it for ya…works every time.”

“Hm maybe, so you do this a lot then?”

“What pick up sketch artists at birthday parties? Too right, that’s basically an average Saturday for me.” He finished with a wink.

Zayn rolled his eyes as he put the finishing touches on the caricature.

“Alright just about done…can you give me a thumbs up real quick?” Harry did as asked and Zayn couldn’t help but laugh at his own work making the younger boy pout.

“Heyyy no fair, I wanna see it.” Zayn’s shoulders were still shaking with silent laughter as he ripped the sketch from his book and handed it off to the other boy. Harry looked down at the picture and let out an obnoxious laugh as he took in the dick shaped lollipop Zayn had drawn him licking, he’d even gotten his rings just right; the attention to detail was impeccable even with the added distraction of joking around with Harry the entire time.

“You’re really good Zayn, I know my opinion isn’t much but like, this is really good.” Zayn tried not to blush at the compliment and instead focused on sharpening his pencil.

“So about my offer?” Harry said suddenly, still studying the sketch. Zayn shrugged, like this wasn’t potentially the single most important decision of his life.

“I supposed I could gather up a few things, like you said what have I got to lose?” Harry literally clapped his hands together in excitement.

“Sweet and about my _other_ offer?”

“Huh?” Zayn’s brow furrowed for a beat until it dawned on him and he couldn’t help but smirk cheekily. “Oh about going for a ride in your BMW?” Harry hummed, not entirely as amused.

“Um, more like riding you _on_ my BMW but yes that offer.” Zayn let the moment draw out for a bit; making a show of looking Harry up and down much like the other lad had done to him earlier and licked his lips.

“I don’t usually bottom but for you I think I can make an exception so long as you were serious about those pancakes after.”

Harry beamed. “Blueberries or chocolate chips?”  

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading <3


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